Night Dwelling
by LilyGhost
Summary: Being the opportunist he is, Ranger not only recognized an opportunity to be alone with Stephanie, he literally drove away with it.


**All familiar characters and events used in this story belong to Janet. Mistakes are mine alone.**

I lifted my head and then blinked my eyes rapidly a few times when I realized the car I'm in is still moving.

"Where are we?" I asked Ranger.

I am still a little groggy, but I'd say I'm actually more confused than sleepy right now.

"I think the more interesting question is why was your head in my lap, Babe?"

"I was tired. I haven't slept much this past week," I explained.

"I think we broke six laws on the way here. Your seat belt wasn't securing you properly, my hands didn't remain at ten and two or nine and three at all times ..."

I interrupted because I know when he turns playful, he will keep listing our misdemeanors and avoid my question just for fun.

"And _here_ is _where_ exactly?" I asked, getting this conversation back on track.

I looked at the clock on the dash and it said ten-fifteen. I remember that I slid the shoulder strap of my seat belt off me and made Ranger's thigh my pillow around nine-forty, and we'd been cruising down Hamilton Avenue at the time. I figured we were just heading to my apartment after dropping the skip Ranger helped me catch tonight off at the TPD. So in theory, I'd only be resting my eyes for a few seconds until he pulled up to the front of my building and said goodnight. But Batman apparently decided to kidnap me ... not that that's a bad thing. I'm more curious about where we're going than worried about him taking off with me.

Being well into Fall, it's already pitch black out by seven. It being hours later than that, all I can clearly see is a five-foot stretch of road in front of our headlights and the headlights of passing cars, driven by people who know where the heck they're going, in the lane heading in the opposite direction.

"Since I have the day off tomorrow ..."

"You do?" I asked him, more than a little surprised.

He hadn't mentioned that before, during, or after, our job. He's not opposed to keeping certain types of secrets for the greater good or my personal safety, but this bit of information he could've shared.

"Yes."

"You never take time off of work," I pointed out.

"You must be becoming a bad influence on me, because I am now. I told Tank that he can earn his Christmas bonus this year and handle things until I get back."

"Wow."

"And since you just caught the only guy Vinnie had for you, I decided we should spend the time together."

"Not in Trenton?"

"No, just outside of it. I made a purchase that I wanted to show to you."

"Another car?"

"No."

"A plane?"

"I already have one."

I smacked his arm. "And you didn't tell me that either? I hate flying, but I bet I'd despise it a little less if my flights were on a private plane and I didn't have to endure people scanning my insides or looking through my underwear."

"It's more of a company jet. And I would have offered you a ride on it when you had somewhere to go if one of my partners hadn't needed it at the same time you did."

"So what's left?"

"You'll see. We're almost there."

Usually I get real cranky when he won't just tell me what's going on or what he's up to, but knowing we now have at least twenty-four hours together, and more importantly ... that he wanted to spend his time off with me when a break from business is a rarer occurrence than a condom-less Joyce sighting, put me in a decidedly agreeable mood. I corrected my seat belt, relaxed back in the Cayenne's seat, and crossed my arms as I stared hard out my window, trying like hell to identify anything even remotely familiar.

Just because I'm okay with letting him surprise me, doesn't mean I wouldn't be happy to solve the mystery all on my own and beat him to the punch. But he of course took too many side roads, likely anticipating my determination and my nosiness, for me to even take a guess about where we are in Jersey. After another ten minutes, he took one last turn that eventually led to a gated property.

I got real nervous but I also felt beyond excited. "Holy House, Batman! Did you drive me to the _Bat Cave?!_ "

Great, I finally make it to his secret hideaway and the only thing I can clearly see in the dark is his grin.

"This is more like the _Julie_ Cave," he told me, pointing a fob at the gate so it would open for us. "Rachel and Ron have agreed to let Julie stay with me during school vacations ... if she wants to."

"Oh, Ranger, that's great news," I said squeezing his leg, understanding how much this means to him.

It's no longer just me telling him that he deserves to have his daughter in his life. By letting her stay in Trenton with him, the Martines are acknowledging the importance of Ranger being more than just a shadowy figure in Julie's life.

"Of course Julie wants to come visit you more often," I continued. "You're her Dad and she's never forgotten that. She's lucky to have two fathers who love and want time with her."

"Frank doesn't know what he's missing," Ranger told me.

I've gotten pretty good at reading him, and I'm detecting a little anger underlining his tone.

"But I know what _I_ have, Steph," he finished, reaching for my hand to kiss the back of it.

Who knew the Man of Mystery is also a magician? Just a few words from him, and a quick kiss to what shouldn't be an erogenous zone, and my spirits, mood, and libido, perked right up.

"I bought this place so Julie can feel like a 'normal' kid when she comes to Jersey. She likes to hang out at the Rangeman building, but I thought her having a real home to sleep in at night, and her own bedroom filled with her things, would help our relationship feel more permanent. What do you think?"

"Of your plan or your house?"

"Both."

He drove up what felt like a stone paver driveway as I took in the strategic outdoor lighting surrounding his place. Two security lights for each A-line peek and one over the garage doors, a recessed and overhead lit entryway, and the path leading from the driveway to the front door being lined with ankle-high post lighting, gave me a mysterious glimpse of the gray-toned stucco and stone home. The outside is pretty impressive ... and so is the inside, which I can partially see through the huge multi-squared windows in the living area and what looked like an upstairs hallway.

Either Batman has his cell acting as a control panel for the house, or he had planned for us to end up here all along and left some lights on for us.

"I love the house, and if Julie doesn't like it as much as I do, I know she'll love the reason why you felt you had to buy it."

Instead of hitting a button to open the garage doors so he could park and we could go on inside, he let the Porsche idle as he turned and leaned towards me to give a very lucky me one of those kisses of his that say more than words could.

"Okay ... _um_... _wow_ ," I stammered.

"Am I making you nervous?" He asked, his mouth still close enough to be brushing mine.

"You're making me _something_..." I said to myself as he drew back.

Guess he heard me, because there's that night-defying grin again.

"Would I ask you to give me a tour of your house if you're making me nervous?"

"Yes," he told me, without a hint of hesitation.

I hate when he's right. Some of the best moments of my life happened when I stayed - or let him stay - all of the times he's made me the most uneasy.

"Fine, I admit it, but it's because I know that for however scary you appear and how sexy _you are_ , you're equally trustworthy. Now show me Julie's home-away-from-Rangeman-home."

That's when he did open the garage doors and drive us home. I waited for him by my side of the car and then followed him to the security door. He let me go first after entering a code and hitting the light switch, and I walked into a mudroom that's better looking and better equipped than my entire apartment.

It has pristine white cabinets, black granite countertops, a smudgeless stainless steel sink and washer and dryer made not only in this century, but also this decade. Plus, there's a solid wall of storage shelves painted a durable glossy black so the clothes, clean or dirty, can stay out here and not say ... land in a heap on someone's bedroom chair.

"If this room only had a shower, toilet, and food, I could live happily in just this little space. You wouldn't notice me at all."

He slid closer and his hand moved to my hip. "I _always_ notice everything about you. And I _always_ know where you are," he whispered against my ear.

He also knows exactly what he's doing, and the flirt felt my body totally ignore me and respond shamelessly to him.

"I _have_ heard that before from a stalker or two, but somehow it sounds really sexy when _you_ say it ... not creepy at all."

"That was my goal, to not creep you out."

"Very funny," I told him, moving into the kitchen.

The kitchen flipped the colors of the mud room, having dark-stained cabinets and light granite counters, with the same stainless steel on the sink, fridge, stove, dishwasher, and coffee maker. If I could cook more than just a grilled cheese, I'd be jealous. I let my fingertips skim the cold stone as I walked between the sink and huge kitchen island to snoop further. I made it into a small hall that led to what should be a formal dining room. I was surprised again after seeing a similarity in each of the rooms I've seen so far.

"You don't have any furniture," I needlessly told him.

I'm pretty sure he already knows that.

"I just bought the place. I have what I need to survive a night or two here, but I haven't had time to pick furniture for it."

That had me curious. "What do you need to survive?"

"Something to use for a bed, an MRE, and a bottle of my shower gel, since you become even friendlier when you smell it on me."

I smiled. "Spoken like a Ranger."

He flipped another switch that lit up the entire front entrance that includes a spiral staircase carved from hardwood.

"Or _your_ Ranger. And your apartment, Babe, would have even a drunk frat boy looking for the number of an interior designer, and you've lived there for years."

I shrugged. "It's just easier not to have anything, let alone anything worth keeping, when you get firebombed weekly. But I'd require at least a bed, ice cream, peanut butter, Tastykakes, and a TV. Not to mention, a carry-on full of all the stuff that's on my sink and in my shower, and at least one change of clothes with two shoe-options. And that's just to get me through a Monday."

"Make a list and I'll ask Ella to pick up what you need."

" _Huh?_ "

"I intend for us to spend a considerable amount of time in this house, when Julie's here and when she isn't, and I need you to feel comfortable."

"Jeez, I thought I was a little ... _unconventional_ ... but you're way worse. You can't just ask me to have dinner with you, you go all out and provide me/ _us_ with a place to escape to?"

"You don't like the idea?"

"I friggin' _love_ the idea! Who wouldn't? But seriously, I don't need to be driven away to enjoy time with you. I'm happy with us just sipping wine and eating pizza on my crappy couch whenever you want to drop by."

"I think we both deserve a little more than that."

"Such as?"

"A real life ... the same thing I said I wanted Julie to feel."

"You think we deserve to feel normal and … _permanent_?"

"You could say that. We both know we'll never be normal in the typical sense, we've seen and experienced too much for that, but I'd like to now have the same thing normal people want when they've met the person they can't see their future without."

Talk about making me nervous. Gulping down my sudden panic and my increasing excitement, is the only thing I was capable of doing for a solid minute.

"And _I'm_ that person?" I asked him, my voice sounding raspy from all the oxygen and moisture just being shocked out of my body.

"It's _always_ been you."

"But I drive you nuts ..."

"You do when you don't take my advice or warnings seriously enough."

"Which is a lot."

"A lot less now that you know you have nothing to prove to anyone except yourself."

"I have tons to prove," I admitted, after another minute of teetering on the edge of staying stuck with what I have or fearlessly lunging forward and reaching for everything I could get.

" _Like_...?"

My answers are faster in coming now. "Like how much I love you despite never being able to say it ... that I do want to be here and in Trenton with you and Julie, but I'm also terrified."

"Of?"

"Of screwing this ... _us_... up if I let you completely in and you get too close for your own comfort. You think I'm a handful half the time as it is, if you see every part of me and everything that goes on in my mind ... you could rethink just being friends with me. What my family doesn't know it taught me is … if you need someone, you can never be free of them. So I've tried not to rely on anyone. _You're_ the _only_ person I broke that rule for, always calling you and actually begging you for help. I can't - and really, really don't want to - picture a Ranger-less life, but I could have to face one if you start to feel like I'm not worth the work it'll take to get me just looking at the road to normal, never mind getting my butt on it."

"What's the worst that can happen if you trust that when I tell you that I love you ... I won't stop?" He asked me.

"That you get sick and tired of trying to fix me ... and then I'll lose the only person who believes in me."

His arms came around me. "There's a building in Trenton full of men who believe in you, Steph."

"But if _you_ leave me, they all go with you. Then it'll be back to being just me and Rex again ... and that's not an existence I'm really looking forward to."

"Have I ever left you or left you hanging when a serious job didn't require it? I was living on the run two separate times because of Ramos and then Scrog, and I still called you just to hear your voice and to silently convey to you that I was okay, calling myself a total bastard for involving you in my problems, but unable to stay away. If your grandmother hadn't been your roommate at the time the Ramos non-murder was being investigated, I wouldn't have left that night you woke up and tackled me ... _and_ I would have been back and likely stayed every night it felt safe for me to."

That's a huge admission for him. He's always maintained that he doesn't need anyone, just like I have. Turns out, we were both wrong about that one. It's quickly dawning on me that keeping yourself at a distance doesn't actually keep you safe, but being with the person who you feel safe with _does_ make you a heck of a lot stronger. I suddenly cared less about my fears, and more about being with the man who busts his perfect ass everyday to try to keep everything scary away from me.

I stood up on tiptoes and looked him in the eye. "Grandma Mazur isn't here now," I said, my verbal equivalent of waving a surrender flag sounding echoey in the still-empty space.

"No ... she isn't," he said carefully. "It's just the two of us."

"You said that you have something bed-like here?"

"Yes."

"Does it have sheets on it?" I asked him, looping my arms around his neck.

In one move, he had an arm under my knees and another along my back. "Does it matter?" He countered, as he lifted me up like I weigh nothing at all, even after I ate the Happy Meal he bought me before the job.

"No," I told him.

Whether it's me in-between his body and what I hope is a mattress, or him providing a hot and hard barrier for me, I can predict with a hundred-percent accuracy that we'll both be falling asleep tonight with victorious smiles on our faces.


End file.
